Bollio sat at the edge of a ravine. Yes, the same ravine. No, not a time loop.

He had escaped the city. Everything there had gone up in flames, and he had come out here to simply admire the rock formations.

There were not many places he considered safe anymore, in fact, everything seemed to be going wrong. This wasn’t right. People didn’t simply go crazy like this. Maybe the landscape had something to do with it. Magical men like the fetleens, jutal, and yunir, were normally not as driven to force as their mother elements.

No longer having to file reports and make hasty notes, he could enjoy the landscape. That is, until something hit him.

This ‘something’ was a chunk of ice.

The chance of being hit by a magic inducing item while being in the exact same spot, twice, is incredibly small. Yet this was not chance. The Ground had chosen Bollio to be its champion, its hero. Unbeknownst to the others, the Water had also seen potential in him.

Like two sisters fighting over a toy, the Ground and the Water found the same man to channel their magic. He had good control over the power it seemed and would not misuse it. However, what they had not known, is that Bollio would not misuse it, but he wouldn’t use it either. It would take a great deal to budge his opinion on the topic.

Once again, he fell down the slope, the rocks jolting him and breaking his bones, which would undoubtedly heal soon enough. The fall was rather short, and just as unpleasant as the first time.

Dazed, and incredibly mad, he sat up and rubbed his head. His hair, it was... frosty? And his skin – he shuddered – was moist.

How the sea had reached him, so far from its domain, no one can say, though perhaps someone had tossed the rock, perhaps a geographical surveyor who passed through the area.

However, like last time, power needs balance.

The air seemed to warp and bend, and light shone. Another man from the stars had appeared. Except, this time, it was no boy. Perhaps he had been looking for Ezekiel, considering his strange murderous habits, because he was carrying a gun. Not like a musket from the scientists up north, but one that could fire metal faster than anything Bollio had ever seen on the planet. He knew this because the moment the man appeared, he opened fire on Bollio.

Bollio ducked behind a rock. It was a rather sturdy rock, and probably did not make up the majority of the geological layer, as most of the rest of the layer had been blown away. In addition, it was completely solid and thick, unlike the other part which was chalky. It was a thick green, unlike the orange that surrounded it.

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Unconsciously, Bollio drained the rock. The thick rock pulsed through his skin, and the rock itself turned a dull gray chunk jutting out from the ground, and immediately, the gun started chipping away at its weakened form.

He stood up, and the fire turned towards him again. The bullets bounced off his skin. When the man noticed this, he turned tail and fled. He wouldn’t want to fight something he couldn’t kill.

The man was strange. He wore a fully green outfit, with dark green and brown stains, except the stains appeared to be part of the design. Bollio thought he looked rather tense and seemed to jump at everything as he dashed away. He recognized the signs. This man was a soldier. A quite terrible job compared to his own.

***

Ezekiel was winning. Valtar knew this. His new master would lead the jutal to victory. But there were opposers. As every man needed his enemy.

The fetleens would all have to die or leave. It was absolutely necessary; it had been proven that the two forces could not get along with each other peacefully. He regretted having to kill them of course, it was a brutal thing to do. Yet he had not doubted Ezekiel since he had joined the fight a couple weeks ago.

He now sat in a command building, awaiting deployment. Ezekiel had given them all weapons and new purposes, and now he had a special job for some special people. He had been scared of something, a new beast who roamed the city. The Tree-Man he was called, for he dressed like a tree.

Anything that Ezekiel feared had to be killed or brought down, no matter the cost. He must remain safe.

Valtar’s commander gave the word, and him and the other men and women moved out, clutching their spears. They were led to a building inside the city, where they waited.

It was old and dusty, having been abandoned earlier in the fighting, and they peeked through the boarded-up windows. They said he should appear soon.

In the meantime, no one joked or messed about. No one moved. They, like Valtar, were all loyal to Ezekiel, and would not fail him.

I must not fail him, he thought.

To do so would be foolish, it would get him cast out of the army on a moment's notice, leaving him to do nothing about the conflict, nothing but sit there with no purpose.

That was the difference: here, his sitting was purposeful. He waited to fulfill orders, to please his master.

The man appeared around the corner of a street up ahead. He moved wildly, pointing his musket at various windows. If any of them made a sound they would be dead.

They got ready, waiting by the door to rush out behind him. There would be another group – which had split off from Valtar’s – in the front to cut off escape. The Tree-Man was fast.

As he stalked by, he rushed out, his group following him. They immediately charged the man, stabbing blindly with spears. He saw up ahead the other group doing likewise.

The man brandished his musket, then used it.

It was no normal musket. He had no need of reloading until hundreds of shots had been fired, and he mowed through the rows of soldiers. Valtar ducked into an alleyway, cradling his arm.

This man was a monster, yet he was powerful. More powerful than... dare he say it? More powerful than Ezekiel.

Ezekiel had created a place where power equaled rule. And this man had more power.